


Much More Original

by ribbons



Category: Lord Peter Wimsey - Sayers
Genre: Dubious Consent, M/M, Waxplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-05-20
Updated: 2010-05-20
Packaged: 2017-10-09 14:27:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/88436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ribbons/pseuds/ribbons
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bunter exacts revenge for an indiscretion.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Much More Original

**Author's Note:**

> Prompted by a discussion of (among other things) liquid paraffin as a cake ingredient, in the LJ comment threads for antisoppist's [Harriet/Bunter fic](http://antisoppist.livejournal.com/112848.html).
> 
> Title courtesy of Harriet's "Much more original than all the powders of the merchant. And I expect that Bunter will be able to get it off you" in reference to Peter's encounter with paraffin during their honeymoon.

  
_"Ah, James!" said Bunter, in a tone that boded James no good. _\- DLS

 

James had known he was doomed the instant Mr. Bunter set foot below-stairs at the Dower House. He had not known that being doomed could be so enjoyable. Nothing in his life of service had prepared him for the full demonstration of Mr. Bunter's powers.

Being gagged with a napkin was not a surprise, considering the indiscretion of speech that had incurred the valet's wrath to begin with.

Being stripped and strapped to the man's bed _was_ a shock, but only in the realization that it had happened -- as with so many other happenings in the household, things had a way of whirling one up and about and around before one had fully grasped that one was in the middle of surviving a head-on collision with a cyclone.

Being a human parchment for Mr. Bunter's meditations in wax, sketched across his skin with a cast-away china-painting brush -- James would assess the damage done to himself much, much later. For now, writhing within and underneath Mr. Bunter's gaze, he could spare no thought to anything except the secrets searing his skin: the words as ephemeral as candlelight, their residue as implacable as a seal upon the heart.


End file.
